Decaf Dreams

I am a slow learner not because of rumours of being dropped on my head as a child or car accidents in my slightly misspent youth, but rather because of a stubbornness that allows me to act like a twenty year old and expect my body to perform as such.

I had a delightful evening of sushi with a new friend and we decided to conclude the evening with a "coffee" and rest in heavy leather chairs. She ordered a decaf latte and ordered a cuppachino. No you heard correctly, I didn't fail to mention decaffinated, I ordered the twenty year old version.
And thus it came to pass that sleep settled accross the land, but not in the House of Lodewijks, where a forty six year old male  trapped in the mindset of a twenty year old tossed and turned and grumbled in his bed.
 There would be no dreams tonight and the hours dragged by slower than a school awards ceremony.


Coffee has an exotic allure that raises images of beans being hand picked in wild far off lands by young scantily clad maidens and the sweet scent of their bodies intermingling with the flavour of the beans. Roasted and distributed to all corners of the earth for us to enjoy the musky warmth and seduction that is known simply as coffee.
It is the "clever juice" of our generation and the coffee shops lure us in with promise of guaranteed satisfaction and friendship. It has been mixed with vanilla ice cream, with steamed frothy o so damn sexy milk and even incense.

Where we associate tea with the English and their wet miserable weather and snobbish tones, coffee is the drink that removes all hints of snobbery and is available and enjoyed by prostitutes and priests, round people and stick people, bikini clad models and lovers of little squeaky shivering dogs. It is friendly, it embraces life and kisses you as it touches your lips.

So tonight, make yourself a mug of coffee and reminisce life and contemplate who you will share your next  mug with.

Nite All

And to Claire, thank you for a wonderful evening.

The Whole Food

I have heard a lot of talk about whole food and as an avid eater, cook anti-dieter, I feel it is my responsibility to clear up certain misconceptions in this matter.

If I may be so bold as to quote from my never to published potential bestseller “Naked Eating and other Habits”, ‘You are not what you eat, you are in fact a walking talking food processor. You eat it, process it and churn it out. Done’

My profession interpretation of whole food is as it implies, whole. A whole chicken, whole apple or apple pie, whole leg of lamb. Despite my passionate approach to eating and the art of forking objects on my dinner plate, the assumption to eat till full, rest and enter phase two will not lead to untold joy unless you accept who you are and are comfortable with it.

It is not the volume of food that we consume, but in fact the time frame, circumstances and social surroundings that impact on our blood pressure and bloated midriffs. If we accept a meal as a social event as such laugh, chat and embrace it instead of our Western culture of attacking it in silence or in from of an electronic device and shovelling down opious amounts of processed fried fats, we might see that there is a world outside our curtains.

This morning I had fresh avocado on wholewheat toast with butter, ground black pepper and salt and ate it on the patio overlooking the trees, gardens and children waiting for their school bus to arrive. It was a refreshing meal in more ways than one.

Rob, you have inspired me by raising my interest and passion for food again, thank you Sir. Karen your peasant remedies research will be incorporated and is much appreciated. Candy for wanting to strangle me, refraining and endless support Tracey for the lectures on the importance of lunch, Merci

My mission and vision is simple. I will eat my way to health and in the process enlighten and encourage my daughters to embrace food passionately and not settle for the crap we grab on the run as we sprint through life. Time to slow down and smell the aroma.

Good Nite All